Walking on a Battlefield
by WhatWouldLauraDo
Summary: Centuries in the future, the U.S. is run by the Council of the United States. Slowly the government has been manipulating and abusing their powers, and the citizens of the world have no idea. Except for the rebels. This story follows one of the leaders of the rebels, Wally West, as he and his friends fight through the war. No super powers. M for language and sexual themes.
1. Dumb Mistakes

AN: Hey guys! It's my first multi-chapter story! And this one is a hard hitter. I'm really excited to see what people think of it! Please favorite, follow, and review if you can, it helps the story a lot. Enjoy!

There's the strange obscure silence that wraps up someone who's taken with fear and shock. The bullets whistled past Wally's face. Inside, his heart raced like a cheetah who had run into a full pride of lions. Suddenly frightened; vulnerable. Despite all of his mental preparation Wally was like any other scholar pushed into a warzone. His clammy hands gripped his automatic rifle, and he felt the sleek brutality of the weapon. The power that lay within the mechanics of it, all controlled by his trigger finger and where he aimed. There were few men in his squad, but he couldn't hide like this. He had to think, now. There weren't many items at their disposal. Either remain and return fire, retreat, or test out some experimental weaponry. Moving a large black metal case in front of him, he worked through the massive passcode with ease. The redhead pulled the case open slowly and looked at the coconut sized grenade. The 'nade was an experimental test to determine the potency of what was called "Kobra-Venom". The normal form of the serum would be released as a toxic gas that would have a reverse effect - sapping the life out of those who came in contact with it. That was Wally's hypothesis at least.

Before all the fighting, the ginger had been a junior scientist for the government's experimental research facility. With his quick thinking and master chemical skills, he quickly climbed the ranks. Within a couple years he became a head scientist, and one of the creators of several chemical weapons, such as the Kobra-Venom. He had been planning for the revolution since the very beginning of his career. During his college years Wally had seduced professors into providing information for him, gaining him a head start on the track to being a government employee. Through this process he learned all about the corruption that was spread throughout the government. In this era, where everyone who was still a working citizen was required to have a brain-chip and often further upgrades to their biology, there was plenty of room for the government to snoop around in the minds of the civilians. It wasn't until the end of his senior year at college that Wally and his partner in crime, Dick, figured out how to neutralize a brain-chip without letting the authorities know something was wrong. The brain-chip was then programmed with hundreds of thousands of thoughts that would be viewed easily by the government and arrayed in such a way that the automatic screenings that occurred would not pick up anything suspicious. The thoughts on the chip were not always the same either; the perfected randomization was a simulation of human thoughts on an extremely minute scale. As long as they didn't read Wally's thoughts for several days at once they would notice nothing odd.

That gave them the opportunity to scheme after college. A few more like-minded citizens joined their cause as well. In incredibly small increments their new team released the truth to the public. Harmless details, nothing that was technically illegal really. It was all practically common knowledge, but those who knew never asked or snooped around to see if their suspicions were true. Megan would spread the rumors through the lips of sultry waitresses and the like. Wally would gather the information and relay it to Dick, who would create the untraceable leak of data. Roy would be the one to travel around and find those who had heard the truth and believed it. He'd recruit the followers, forming a secret mass of citizens who were willing to later become an armed rebellion. It was all a neat, structured plan that had gone like clockwork. A experimental bomb had been left ticking by Wally in the research facility. Only a couple of other scientists survived. Roy gave orders to followers to meet at specific locations - four to be exact. One of each of the team was there to guide the followers. Dick secured some key data and wiped what he could from the government's sealed files. Then, they sent one more untraceable message straight to the United States Council.

War was coming.

Everyone had to have their brain-chips removed. It was a gruesome process and some did not survive. An alteration of the Kobra-Venom saved some. The surgeons they had recruited were given ranks of honor already, considering the brain-chips were half of the battle. They were almost entirely responsible for all of the fear and worry. There was so much the government could do with them, considering the chip was often hooked up to most parts of the brain, and the list of affected areas was almost unending as the government continued development. The National Army utilized this to become some of the most feared soldiers in history. Emotions were limited by the chip, making the soldiers foolhardy but ruthless. They took orders completely, as there was no room for objection. If anyone had the mind to object, they were killed. It was another simple process for the government to manipulate.

The rebellion was outnumbered and was up against inhuman enemies. However, a major strength can be transformed into a crushing weakness. With all chips removed from those in the rebel army, a pulse to shut off all electronics within range was harmless to them. It was deadly for the National Army. It would either kill the soldiers by frying their brains outright, or the sudden shock of released signals from the chip would cause them immense brain damage. The government worked to fight this weakness, however, and unfortunately, they were rather quick to figure it out. They were also quick to retaliate, and it became more than just a firefight. It was a technological massacre.

That's what required Wally to resort to devastating weapons. To shiver when he imagined all the pain he was to inflict. How, to survive, he had to become inhuman as well.

So he pulled the safety pin. He watched the 'nade as it flew through the air and rolled across to the feet of the soldiers. Wally nearly forgot to tell his men to put on their gas masks. It was unlikely the venom would reach them, but Wally wouldn't take any risks. He plugged his ears tightly and screwed his eyes shut. He couldn't watch, only hear the screams and know he had been right about the potency of the grenade.

It was only a couple minutes until the screaming stopped. As general, Wally took his rifle in hand and went to make sure all the soldiers had passed on with the vapors.

No one, especially not Wally, expected a smoke bomb to roll over to his ankles and incase him in a cloud of gas. As the butt of a gun jabbed into the back of Wally's head, his last thought went along the lines of, _"I'm a fucking idiot."_


	2. The Asylum

AN: Hello again! Sorry this chapter is short, the next ones will be longer to make up for it. Also I'm going to be posting the story onto Archive of Our Own since I think it'll get more view there (hopefully). If not, there's a likelihood the story will be discontinued :( On a sidenote, responding to the reviews YES this will be ConnerxWally (SuperKid) which is slash. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

The cell was bitterly cold, and his given clothes were scratchy and filled with holes. Some faint stains were on the cuffs and on side of the shirt, a hole in the center. Likely a shiv wound. If people still used those in jails. Wally knew that they definitely didn't in the most secure lockdown in the country. There were only a handful of criminals in the asylum, and one of them was him. Wally lifted one of his hands and reached for his head. He still had all of his hair, which meant that they hadn't bothered to plant a brain-chip into him again. The Council probably figured his teammates would find him by tracking a chip. Or they were planning on killing Wally soon.

But that thought was, absurdly, too good to be true. He knew what was going to happen in the days to come. They'd give him enough food so that he could walk a couple feet each day, keep awake for a couple hours, and still be able to scream when they tortured him for information. Classic.

Taking in his surroundings, the redhead's hand felt the surface of the cell. It was a simple design, including bars on the door for him to talk through, although they probably didn't intend them to be used that way. But he would. Despite the simple structure, the materials were all highly indestructible, even for someone with immense strength. Wally had barely any with his scholarly stature, so there was no way of breaking out of the cell like that. He would have to manage something during a time when he was being transferred to an interrogation room or something similar. Until then, Wally would have to spend as much time as he could getting to know the hellhole he now resided in.

That lead him to the next point of interest, his guard. Despite the impossible odds of Wally escaping, they had a guard stationed to the side of his cell door. Peering from the bars, Wally couldn't see much. The guard was taller than high by at least a head, and had the typical look of a guard. Vacant stare, tense shoulders, and tight lips. Obviously muscular. After a couple of minutes of staring, the guard fidgeted uncomfortably and glance at Wally. The ginger caught the icy blue of his eyes and the nervousness they revealed. The guard was young, probably only a couple years older than himself. Probably hasn't been a guard for more than five years, and not all of the years were spent in the lockdown asylum.

To sum up his thoughts, the guard looked to be the nervous and gullible type. Easily manipulated. Oblivious the the cruelties of his society. The basic tool of the Council. He was also considerably handsome. If they were on the streets of a city right now, Wally would have started flirting. That was unfortunately not the reality, though. He decided to introduce himself anyways. "Hey, can you hear me? The name's Wallace. Call me Wally though. Do I get to know the name of my lovely keeper?"

There were several long minutes of silence. Wally didn't move from his spot by the bars of the door. The guard was frozen, the only sound from him was his shallow breathing. After the sixth minute of waiting, Wally asked again, softer this time, "could I please know your name?"

As to be expected the guard said nothing for the entirety of the day, except for when he told Wally to back up so that he could slide some food through the door. The guard was smart enough to have his hand completely out of reach, and once the redhead had grasped the tray the guard quickly released the tray. His voice was a low monotone, but not unpleasant. Wally simply sighed as he ate his meager meal of bread and orange slices. Neither were really edible, with an obvious genetically generated taste to them. He always hated the fabricated food people seemed to covet so much. To him, it tasted like swallowing a lie. Hard to get down and keep down, and never quite settling well. The day ended slowly, but Wally remembered to whisper goodnight sweetly to the guard before curling onto the beat up mattress on the floor and drifting to sleep.


	3. The Schedule

AN: Hello again! Sorry I'm a day late with uploading but better late than never, yeah? Thanks for continuois reviews and support guys. The next chapters are gonna be a bit hefty so look forward to it!

The asylum had a fluid routine. In the morning, prisoners were awoken by a loud and obnoxious siren. If that didn't manage to wake people up, the guards would parade down the halls and bang on the doors of their assigned prisoners till they woke up. Why weren't the prisoners allowed to sleep while they could? Wally quickly deduced that it kept their thoughts clouded and the guards, who came for prisoners at all hours of the day, preferred them awake for interrogations. For those who still had brain-chips, their sleeping thoughts also confused the chips or were at least no use to the government. Better to read thoughts that have a marginal chance for merit. Those with chips were likely not in this asylum though, Wally noted, as they would have to be absolute imbeciles to run around committing homicide with a brain-chip still lodged in their cranium.

Most days, Wally sat around and pondered thoughts such as these. No one came to interrogate him within his first week. He figured they were probably waiting for him to weaken a bit and start to loathe this wretched hellhole of a prison so he'd spill all he knows just at the thought of getting out. You can only do so much in a cell that only is a bit wider and longer than your arm span. Nothing to do but sit and think and talk to yourself. Or the guard, but of course he would never answer. Wally didn't let this bother him, though. Every day he would ask the guard the same questions; "What's your name?" "Why're you here instead of somewhere that makes you happy?" "What's on the menu today?"

There were occasional sounds from the guard that Wally took as responses. He might sigh, or grunt, which was something at least. Wally tried to measure what time of day it was by the events that occurred outside his cell. The wake up call was probably around 7am, considering all the guards seemed to still be waking up as well. His guard by the door was replaced around 11:30 and came back within half an hour. Most likely his lunchtime. The point when Wally got food was probably around 5 o'clock, because his eyes would start to get a bit droopy and the only thing keeping him awake was the meal. The sort-of-food-but-really-shouldn't-be-consumed meal. He knew if he refused the food it'd just make his wounds hurt more once he got to interrogation. Heal slower, move slower, escape slower. Nothing much to do about it. After all that, he'd go to sleep at 7pm or later, but he wasn't sure when he guard left to be replaced by a nightshift. One night he tried to stay up to find out, but he ended up falling asleep sprawled out on the floor with his upper body leaning against the side of the mattress.

Midway through the second week they came in to take him to interrogation. Wally went along easily. Smiled and said good morning boys and acted like it was all part of the usual routine. The men who came to take him didn't seem too fazed by anything he did, so Wally took the chance he had to give his door guard a good look.

He was definitely taller than Wally, and the muscles were there. He had a simple black haircut that didn't seem to be combed all the way. Those icy blue eyes didn't meet Wally's emerald green. Wally felt a wicked smile creep onto his face. The guard must be scared now because he knew who the redhead was by now. One of the most wanted criminals in the nation. A bonafide killer, clever trickster, and overall nutjob. A key piece of Wally's escape plan was being able to scare the guard into submission, or to halt him long enough to grab his gun and key card.

The good look wasn't that good of a look though, since once both of his feet were out of his cell he was ordered to face the wall as they wrapped a strip of black cloth around his head to cover his eyes and handcuffs for his wrists. Couldn't see anything. Typical. Thankfully, Wally had no shoes or socks, so he could feel the floor. He tried to measure how many steps it took to get to the room, and what turns they took. He had time to memorize however, so he didn't push himself too hard. Had to keep his cool for his first interrogation, didn't he?

The men took him into a room, pushed him down onto a chair, and secured him in it with a few straps of leather. One of the men asked if Wally had a brain-chip, the other replied with a flat no. Rather boring. After a couple minutes the men took off the blindfold, and Wally gave a polite thanks. They probably spent four hours barraging him with questions. Every time, Wally kept his smile and said he knew nothing, they had the wrong man. The men didn't seem surprised, and oddly enough not that frustrated. At the end, the man stationed behind Wally clocked him on the head with a baton. He woke up in his cell with an awful headache and his meal at his feet. Only bread and water today. No orange.

On the inside, Wally broke his cool. He wanted to have a fit, yell and scream and do anything to get out of this box and just be back outside and feel like he wasn't some caged lab rat, looking forward only to more interrogations and punishments. His breathing audibly quickened and his fists were clenched. The redhead didn't notice the guard move to peer into the cell. An hour passed before Wally managed to calm himself down and rationalize and save his anger. He went to his bed, muttered a good night to his guard, and just before he closed his eyes he heard a whisper from the guard.

"My name's Conner."


	4. Snapped like a Twig

AN: I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, it's definitely not my favorite out of the ones I've written. Chapter 5 is going to be different than the others ones out now so that'll be interesting though : Enjoy! Sorry for being a date late.

The week progressed at a slow and routine pace, just as the prison officials wanted. Wake up, sit around, go to interrogation, get beat up, eat, sleep. Wally began to fill his time with going over what could be happening outside the walls. How his friends and soldiers were doing. Sometimes he'd whisper stories about himself out loud, although they were all useless and likely already known by the Council. His favorite pastime was singing a soft tune, though. Music wasn't banned by the Council, but it was severely restricted. The majority of newer songs contained little to no lyrics, and all music from before the current government existed was banned. Wally only managed to know some older tunes because he grew up with a few ancient devices around, like handheld products that played music and applications. His used to be able to utilize the internet, but being nearly a hundred years old it was hard enough to even charge the thing, much less convert its primitive connection capabilities to adapt to the modern day.

On what Wally figured was a Sunday, a song drifted through his head, the chorus repeating "let's kill tonight". It was an unsettling song, mostly because of what memories it brought to mind. He decided to say it aloud, but really not for any good reason. He persuaded himself to think he was just sharing with Conner.

The ginger's voice was low and full of a kind of seeping and hateful remorse. "In the earlier days of the rebellion, before we had much of a rebel army, we had night raids on smaller communities. Used the places as outposts and gathered up the supplies we could. Normally we would try to be polite, ask if we could take refuge, and ask if they would join our cause if all had gone smoothly." There was a pause and a deep sigh. "One night, we decided the people here, after they shut the door in our face, deserved to pay the price for their loyalty. A couple of the guys took some scraps of wood and lit them up as torches. They set fire to any of the wooden structures and supplies they could find. The barn on the far side of the town was completely engulfed in the flames. The fire generated a huge plume of black smoke. There were some horrible noises, sounded like some pigs burning up." There was another pause, this one longer, before Wally muttered, "they would repeat 'lets kill tonight' as they marched through the shadows of buildings. The people inside could hear them, and they waited outside the doors, chanting. Just to scare them. They turned from men to wicked beasts. They marched into the houses and took their knifes. Didn't even use bullets. Let the townspeople bleed out as they wept and cried and it was a slaughter. Blood soaked the wooden floors and refused to burn." One of Wally's hand was now tightly curled into his hair, and his eyes were wide and blank, seeing it all over again as if it was right in front of him.

"I didn't stop them. I let them. I told them to do it. I wasn't myself. It was exactly what I feared would happen to me. I stopped treating the enemy as other human beings but as just tools for my trade, pawns in my path. I didn't sleep for days, and we made a rule to not kill anyone unless they were a threat. We'd just use a weak discharge of electricity set to the right frequency to disable the chips for a bit. The data in their memory banks wouldn't be there so even if they went to the Council to tell them the Council wouldn't believe it.

"That doesn't help me from forgetting any of it, though. I'll always remember. The war will end and I will have sleepless nights where I'll feel the slime of blood on my fingertips and remember the crazed look of my eyes in the reflection of a puddle, the background full of flames. I'll remember the smile."

There was an endless silence afterwards. Wally kept a hand over his mouth and felt a couple of tears slide down his cheeks and didn't notice Conner peering through the bars to look at him with worried eyes. Later he was shoved off to take a quick shower and then interrogated just after. He didn't feel like giving them a smile and saying anything witty. When they pushed him for an answer he'd just shout, "does it look like I know?!" The guards were definitely pissed off by that. One of the guards, a new one, was smiling though. His hair was a light blonde. He undid the buckles on one of Wally's wrist and repeated a question. Wally simply stared into his eyes. The blonde guard smiled slightly and quickly snapped Wally's wrist. The guards hurriedly pushed him out of the interrogation room, the blindfold on quickly and the handcuffs discarded. Wally was too shocked by the sudden pain to resist. He'd had worse before, but that didn't make pain from his other injuries decrease. Any movement spent sharp spikes of pain through his nerves and so he kept his arm at his side, dangling uselessly. Before the day ended a man that must've been the asylum's doctor came in, fitted Wally with a light cast (nothing really, most of it was only in the needed area) and departed without a word. He received no painkillers and his food was vacant of fruit yet again. The blonde guard from before passed by Wally's cell, waved an apple past the bars, and laughed as he left out of view. The redhead didn't have the energy to get angry at him, and when he tried to clench one of his fists he clenched the injured one and groaned from the pain. It had been a dull sore pain until then, so Wally had easily forgotten in his haze that he was in a sadistic hellhole where his wrist had been snapped. He slept early and whispered goodnight from his bed and figured Conner couldn't hear. However, always the surprising one, Conner whispered a goodnight in response to him. It gave the ginger something to smile about.


	5. The Beginning

AN: Hastily uploaded and likely has errors. But it's early! Enjoy guys :)

The guard awoke with a shake, his alarm blaring into his eardrums. Conner quickly slammed his hand onto the snooze button and sat up. His other hand combed through his messy hair, and acknowledged that he should get it cut soon. Then he realized he had slept to his third alarm, meaning he had only twenty minutes before work. Rushing out of bed, he took the quickest shower of his life and left the house with his tie undone and only a granola bar in hand for breakfast.

The trip to work was quick thanks to the speed of the trams, but horribly slow with how boring the duration was. Without having a book or paper to read Conner simply stood and thought about nothing as the tram moved onward. His hand gripped one of the support poles tightly, making that gross scent of metal smear onto his warm hand, but Conner couldn't care less. At least it smelled better than his workplace.

After roughly seven minutes the tram halted at Conner's stop where he had to run to the gates of the asylum. He had hoped that no one would see him during the ridiculous race to beat the clock, but unfortunately he was picked on as the new guy more so than usual. He fixed his shirt in front of one of the bathroom mirrors and adjusted his tie. A cold handful of water helped him wake up, and soon he was down the hall towards his assigned cell. Conner went over Wally's file in his head as the prisoners started begrudgingly waking up. Wallace Rudolph West. Parents deceased. All relatives loyal to the Council. Gender: Male. Age: 27. Height: 5' 10". Weight at Start: 155lbs. Graduated from the Academy of Sciences in the capital city. Graduated as the top 6 student of his class. Criminal of the highest offense. That was the extent of what Conner could remember from reading through the file while shocked to his core. As an employee of only a year, they had assigned him one of the most wanted and dangerous criminals in the county.

The scariest part to Conner was that he kind of liked the guy. He was handsome, immensely intelligent, relatively kind to Conner, and overall _human._ From what he knew he had suspected this guy would be totally vacant of human emotions. But the redhead's been struggling to keep his emotions in check it seemed. Conner felt bad for the guy, but wasn't sure what to do about it. He supposed he could smuggle in some extra food for him. He took a glance at his watch. He'd grab a bit of bread at the end of lunch to "eat at his post" but he'd place it on Wally's plate when dinner came around. This idea made Conner wonder what the price for being caught would be. He probably wouldn't get fired, but he would likely get demoted. Or moved to a different prison. If he hide the bread well (which would be easy) he'd be fine. He clenched his fist in confirmation, he'd follow through the plan. It wasn't much but it was the best he could do.

The morning went slowly, no one came to the cell to nab Wally, and the ginger himself was relatively quiet. He sung some unfamiliar song softly so Conner only caught a couple words like "mama" and "we all go to hell". He wasn't sure what to make of it so the taller man didn't think anything of it. Once lunch came around his replacement arrived; a short man with oily black hair. No one Conner knew. He gave the man an offhand greeting and walked the winding hallways to the lunchroom. In the room there were two 4-seat tables and then a bar for 6 people to sit at. At one table there was an open seat, and one of his fellow guards, Kaldur, motioned him to sit at said table. There was that blonde interrogator there as well, but Conner didn't let it bother him as he grabbed his food from the tray line and then sat down with his friend.

Kaldur greeted Conner warmly, his usual soft smile adorning his face as he spoke. "You look a bit tired today. Another late wake up?"

"It's hard to wake up before the sun when you only get one day a week off and even then I've got tons of work to do," muttered Conner in response, shifting his "beef stew" around with his utensil before taking a sporkful. It didn't taste as awful as he had expected but could definitely be better. Especially since it was basically tough tasteless "beef" with some grungy gravy from a can.

"Ah, well I'm sending another inquiry to the Council to see if I can get an extra day off this weekend. Got something planned that I'd like to actually do this time."

Conner paused in the middle of lifting the spork to his face to ask the obvious question, "is it another date? You know how little time you're going to have to spend with her."

The other man chuckled, correcting Conner softly, "she has about as much time as I do these days. But she's tough. If we have one fantastic weekend every couple months then we're both happy. And everything got easier once she moved into my apartment."

Conner nodded, not having much to say about that. He wasn't really knowledgeable about relationships and hadn't tried to date anyone since his old girlfriend Megan dumped him. It wasn't completely one sided, but it was definitely her gain and his lose. She found a guy that she liked more and had more time for her, while Conner was all looks and little time to her. Thinking about it all made Conner lose his appetite actually, and he shoveled it all away into his stomach without tasting it. The grub was all he was going to get for a while and he couldn't get more food if he didn't finish what was on his tray. Kaldur and Conner had some more small talk and then Conner left early, grabbing some bread on the way out. Once he was in the hallways alone he slipped it into his inner jacket pocket where he had his hidden gun (in case a prisoner tries to swipe his holster gun and kill him with one blow). The bread fit in snugly but wasn't obvious, and thus hidden successfully.

During the middle of the afternoon Wally was taken away again for interrogation. The guards pushed him around, purposefully trying to make Wally bang his arm against one of them. But the redhead just acted a bit like a dead weight, moving with their force and holding a vacant, dead expression on his face. Conner felt a sort of concern well up inside him but squelched the flames since he knew he could do nothing for the prisoner. He wasn't a man; he was a monster who had killed hundreds of people. Nothing but another madman.

But he couldn't help but feel something for the ginger, like a pull from some invisible cord. There was a brief moment where their eyes connected and Wally smiled just a tiny bit, enough for Conner to notice. Inside he calmed down a bit, knowing Wally was still there and not just a mass of half-dead flesh and bones. Once the redhead had been taken away Conner was to remain at the cell and wait for the eventual return of his prisoner.

During the time he reflected on all that Wally had said to him, and couldn't keep curiosity from his mind. Could all that he had said about the Council and the nation be true? Wally didn't seem like some fool that would start a rebellion with only the meaning to commit mass murder. For what seemed to be hours he just ran the ideas through his mind and realized there was likely no way for him to find if the information was true. He'd have to trust the redhead. However, some of the ideas made sense. In school when children were formally taught to recognize the differences between bias and fact, now all details were from one undeniable source; the Council. History was told the way they wanted it to be told. Other stories connected and his eyes widened. It could be true. It could all be _real._ Then he was called from his thoughts by another guard, one of the men who was bringing Wally back to his cell. A dark red mark formed a misshapen palm on the side of the ginger's face, but he was smiling so the taller man wasn't too worried. Just angry. Angry that he hadn't realized the breach of regulations that have been allowed by all. The false walls that were placed before the eyes of citizens. The lack of care that some had for this fact. His left fist clenched and unclenched repeatedly, and after a couple minutes he walked off to grab Wally's food just so he wouldn't do something foolish with the interrogators still in view. The whole time he was visibly upset, but Conner didn't stop to answer of the questions his co-workers threw at him. He just brought the food to the cell, pulled the slightly squashed bread out of his coat and placed it onto the tray and slid it through.

Later in the night, Wally went up to the bars in the door and whispered something that comforted Conner more than he ever thought such few words could.

"I'll explain more later. Don't worry over it now."

After a quickly muttered thanks from Conner, Wally replied with a few more soft words.

"Be patient. Goodnight."

For a good long moment the taller man didn't respond. Then he spoke very clearly his goodnight to Wally, looking at him through the grate. His eyes likely showed more than he could ever put into words. The ginger had a quick intake in breath, and then smirked and rested his body on the mattress for the night.

The rest of the night was a blur to Conner. All he could think about was that smirk, _those words._ Everything about Wally was a confusing and captivating mystery. He decided to take the words very seriously. He calmed down and knew he would have to wait before the redhead told him more. Got the thoughts of corruption out of his head.

It wasn't till much later that Conner realized those decisions saved him from the government realizing he had suspicions, and thus likely saved his life.


	6. A Risk Worth Taking

The wall was pristine, smooth to his callused fingertips. His eyes bored into the material, seeked to figure out it's mysteries. His mind tossed a knife in between metaphorical hands, thinking carefully and slowly like the seeping pain of his still injured wrist. After a couple weeks it had mended, and in the right places, but his lack of proper nutrients left the bones brittle and unreliable. Any wrong move would result in awful pain that moved through his body and made his mind blurry. The redhead sighed and closed his eyes, combing a hand through his hair. He wouldn't last much longer in the cell. Wouldn't last much longer with so little food. Tired of wearing grungy old clothes that still reeked of other criminals.

There was a chance he got, once a week, every week. On what he believed to be Saturday the guard rotations were different. There would be time to bust out and scramble away...to somewhere. Wally made some noise that might be recognized as a growl and felt like punching the wall, if he didn't know any better. His only option was to get to know his guard. Swing him into his cause. Do whatever it took. But how, and when? Verbally? That was the only option unless he wanted to waste his food on messages written with crumbs. After what seemed to be hours of thought the ginger stood up and walked to the door, slipping his nose through the bars. Conner's eyes were looking at him, slightly surprised, but not afraid. Wally smiled softly and the guard seemed to relax a bit. The redhead whispered:

"What I'm going to ask of you is going to be..ridiculous for you. But you've heard the truth. You know why I'm fighting. You see the truth yourself. But we can't achieve our goals if I'm locked up here and you're stuck as a guard. So, on Saturday, when the guard rotation is off, you're going to use a key card you grabbed from an interrogator, let me out quietly, and we'll escape together. Sound good?"

If Conner looked surprised before, then he was completely baffled now. And immensely nervous. He was stiff as a board, and obviously uncomfortable. Retracting from the bars, Wally added "think it over and tell me what you think by dinner." The taller man barely heard the words with his mind so occupied with the thoughts of releasing a civil war leader and committing treason.

xxxxxxxxxxx

When the whispered request ended and Conner finally absorbed it all, his mind went blank. His mouth went dry. it was just...insane. They didn't have any backup car or any way to get away, and Conner's brain chip could be tracked, right? It seemed like a suicide mission. There was no way it could work...but then why would Wally want to do it? He was kind of a genius, in a sense. He wouldn't want to follow through a plan if he thought it'd kill him? Or was it all a trick? Maybe he had planned something with his cohorts, that if one of them were ever caught after a certain time they'd be rescued within a certain span of time? And why would he want to abandon all he had for Wally, a mass murderer? His job wasn't great, but it filled his needs and wants with the money he earned. But something seemed to draw him to the redhead, like an invisible cord between them that Conner hadn't realized was there till he first saw couldn't figure out whether to play it safe or to listen to his emotions.

Conner spent the whole day thinking it over, nearly forgetting he had to give the ginger a response. The taller man looked at his wrist watch, the one that once was his father's. The watch was a sleek silver design that doubled as a news radio, music player, cell phone, camera, and much more. Sometimes Conner wish it could reverse time as well as read it. He'd rewind to college, when he first met Megan and started learning about the criminal justice careers he could pursue. He'd rewind to the day he first got this job and now would likely turn it down if things were different. He'd rewind to the day he first saw Wallace West face to face, and focus more on how he had felt then. He'd rewind back to ask him father about what he should do, even though Conner already knew what he would say.

"No matter what choice you make, I'll always love you. Even if you make the choice I don't like."

Although Conner imagined his father would react a bit differently when instead of asking about dating some girl Conner's asking about whether or not he should aid a criminal's escape. But he didn't want to really focus on the past when he knew it was out of react now, just remaining with him as scraps of memories and would-be futures.

The taller man looked from the wristwatch to a wall clock, a large plain one that was out of view from any of the cells. He got lost in the movements of the hands. The noise rung in his head like a gong, tick tock tick tock tick tock.

He swallowed, and it felt like trying to shove a tennis ball into his stomach.

By the time Conner had made up his mind he was bringing Wally's food back to the cell.

The tray slid through the metal of the door. Conner could feel those sharp green eyes looking at him, expecting that response, that answer. He didn't look at them but kept his own eyes pointed at the floor. The taller man felt the words escape his lips with some frigid meaning that riddled him with uncertainty.

"I'll do it."

Conner expected to see a jackal's smile on the ginger's face, proof that he had made a grave mistake. But the only smile was a hopeful and kind one. The guard finally looked at those emerald eyes. They looked tired with weakness and strain, but they also had a hint of gratefulness.


End file.
